


What It Means To Say Family

by xmencomicsmarvel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Infantilism, Kidnapping, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:31:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3601572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmencomicsmarvel/pseuds/xmencomicsmarvel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In response to this kink meme prompt:</p><p>http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/5396.html?thread=8087316#t8087316<br/>(Bellow is a shortened version of the prompt.)<br/>AU where in Alexandria it's not uncommon to take survivors and "adopt" them as adult babies. This is usually done by Aaron and Eric, who take the survivors who they feel would be suitable and let another suitable family take care of them. This is done maybe to help people who have maybe been traumatized by their loss in the community to have some comfort in taking care of someone?</p><p>They also accept people into the community as regular members, and whilst looking at Rick's group, the pair also find someone who they feel would be perfect for their family: Daryl. Before revealing themselves to the group they kidnap Daryl and basically treat him like their baby or young child. How Daryl reacts to this, and how the group reacts to finding Daryl once they themselves are accepted into the community as regular citizens of Alexandria is up to the author.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family Lost, Family Gained

Beth was dead. They had buried her. He had dug the hole with Rick and Glenn, and her sister had cried, held in carol’s arms as they placed her tiny body in the ground. It was a mercy, Daryl thought, that she had been at least shot in the head. He wasn’t sure if he could have coped with seeing her die twice. That didn’t stop him from swallowing back the vomit that came back up at the thought of her blood on them, the back of her head seemingly exploding onto her family. The walls, and her murderer. That woman, the cop, didn’t deserve the quick death she got, but she was dead now, dead for good, and he doubted the group which she had led would last long with the way they were killing each other.

He was in the woods, wandering around with the idea of hunting them all something to eat. A proper meal to remember Beth by, and Tyreese, now that he was dead, too. That was the idea. Hunt for food, kill something to silence the noise of the gunshot that ended Beth. That was his idea. That was how he could be useful.

If he could find anything but walkers he would be happy at this point. Killing the walkers had its uses, therapeutic, carol had said. He didn’t know much about that, but it made him feel a lot better to end the walkers before they could hurt anyone else. Daryl could be useful that way, too.

He was pretty sure wasn’t alone, though. He had been out here long enough to get a sense of when he was and want being followed. The feeling of being both predator and prey was something you became accustomed to if you lived in this new world.

At this point h was also pretty sure that the thing watching him wasn’t a walker. If it was then it wouldn’t have his when he turned around, wouldn’t have had that sign of intelligence and strategic planning. It could be a dog, maybe even something bigger. He faintly heard the snapping of twigs and the crunching of old leaves, but he dint let on. He would wait a while. For all he knew, it could be that night’s dinner walking towards him. He feigned having not heard whatever it was, pretending to be distracted by a bird flying overhead, making a show of aiming at it.

All the while, the feeling of sadness was begging to overtake him. He could feel it like an oncoming wave, heading towards him despite his utter lack of any way of coping. He couldn’t voice it back at the camp, but perhaps in his isolation, with nothing but tees, the occasional walker, and whatever was following him to see him break down.

He knelt next to a tree, placing his crossbow at his side. His fist connected with the base of the tree, but the pain did nothing to stem the tide of that grief which was overwhelming him. Tears slid down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them away. Just for a moment, he would let himself have this. The tears dropped onto his filthy trousers, covered in mud and blood, some of it Beth’s.

He ignored the noises coming closer. He’s got his crossbow. If it comes any closer he’ll kill it.

“Hey there.” The voice sends a chill down his spine. Not an animal, not a walker, a human. He spins around, wiping his eyes with his left hand and grapping the crossbow with his right. The man is behind a tree, but this hands and his head are peaking out, his face trying it best not to make any expression at all. “My name’s Aaron.” Daryl snarled at him, aiming his crossbow directly at his head, but not firing just yet. The man seems to take this as an encouraging sign. He steps out. There still doesn’t seem to be a weapon on him.

“Daryl.” Daryl murmured, loud enough for Aaron to hear, but still quiet enough to listen out for anyone else coming up behind him. So far, nothing.

“Hello, Daryl.” Aaron took another step closer. Daryl lifted his crossbow up further. Aaron stood still again. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just wanted to talk. Why don’t you put the crossbow down?” Daryl held firm to his weapon. The man in front of his seemed harmless, with his arms still held up. Maybe he could put the crossbow down, but what if he was wrong? He could feel the back of his neck tensing up at the thought there could be a person standing behind him with a weapon. With his weapon still trained on Aaron he turned around as quickly as he could, but there was nothing there. “You see? Nothing to worry about.” Still baring his teeth threateningly to the man, Daryl carefully placed his own crossbow down on the ground, but kept it where he could grab it, just in case. “Thank you.” Aaron smiled at him, but Daryl just kept frowning.

“What do you want?”

“Just to talk.” Aaron put his arms at his sides, the gesture seemed to relax Daryl, to his own surprise, but Aaron just seemed to get tenser, staring directly into Daryl’s eyes. “You’re not the leader of your group, are you?” The question was rhetorical. That much Daryl knew. “If you bring me to your group- I can-“

“-Stop right there!” Daryl interrupted. “There ain’t no way I’m taking you to see anyone until I know who the fuck you are!”

“I told you, my name is Aaron. I come from a group in a safe location. I just need to speak to your group and they’ll see.” Daryl had seen enough to know that the guy had to be trying something, he just had to be.

“You’d better just get back to wherever the hell you came from and stay there. My group has had enough to worry about without some other group trying to take what we have!” He held the crossbow again, aiming it at Aaron, who had moved even further forward to meet him, now standing just an arm’s length away. “Stay back!” Daryl shouted, considering whether to just kill him, but not wanting to see another unturned human die today, of all days.

The cloth which was placed infant of his nose and mouth drew him into a panic. He shot out blindly with one of his arrows, but the man who claimed to be called Aaron easily evaded the shot, and ran to him. He wrestled the weapon from him as Daryl felt himself begin to lose consciousness.

“You fuckin’ bastard.” He tried to shout, but it came out too slurred for him to know if they understood. He could see them both now as the blurriness overtook his vision. The one that had given him the chloroform soaked cloth was blond and thinner than Aaron, and he seemed to be smiling at him almost apologetically. The man put the cloth in a plastic bag, along with a bottle of the foul liquid.

“Shhhh, there now. Just close your eyes.” The other man puts a hand on his shoulder, then up to his head to smooth down his hair. “Let’s put him in the car." As they go to pick him up Daryl tried to move, but he found his limbs unresponsive. He was so tired.

/////

Daryl had been missing for two days before the group began to come to grip with the idea that he could be gone. Rick was still wonder in through the woods, shouting his name with his hands used to carry the sounds better when Carol came up to him.

“He might have left on his own.”

“Without all of his things? Come on, Carol, his bag was still at the barn where he left it.” The only thing missing was his crossbow, which he had taken with him.

“You don’t think- he couldn’t have- did he get bit?” Carol hadn’t looked this unsure since Rick had first met her, his hands wringing before she put them down with purpose. Rick tried to imagine it. Daryl caught by surprise while trying to hunt, maybe escaping further into the woods until the fever hit.

He imagined Daryl as a walker. That pale, clammy skin rotting on bones that walked without direction. That face sunken and empty of what had made Daryl who he was. He closed his eyes, holding back the urge to scream with frustration. Why hadn’t they come out with him? To think that he might have dies alone, without them, was worse to him than watching women from the group die.

“We’ll go back, and we’ll get him a gravesite. He deserves that much.” He deserved a lot more, band he knew putting a wooden cross in the ground didn’t do much, but it was something.

///////

Daryl felt himself wake up in stages. First he couldn’t differentiate one voice from another, or see much beyond what looked like wooden bars. So he was a prisoner, then. Well, they could do whatever they wanted to him, but he wouldn’t let the group suffered to try and get them.

His hands were secured, and he tugged on them experimentally, but they didn’t give. As he kept listening, eh could hear the two that had taken him.

“I think he’s waking up. Should we talk to him now?” It was the blond man, at least that’s what it sounded like. “We could maybe have someone else come in, he might be afraid of us.” He sounded much more worried and contrite than he had any right to be, Daryl thought.

“He doesn’t have anything to be afraid of, he’ll see that, come on.” Daryl had to laugh, nothing to be afraid of did he say? They must have heard him, because he heard Aaron sigh. “Well, I guess we should go in now, before he gets any ideas.” He saw them come into his line of vision, looking through the bars, kneeling. Aaron came the closest, confident. He held onto one of the bars closet to Daryl, waving with his other hand. “Hello, sorry about earlier, but we didn’t think you come willingly, very few people would.” Daryl felt his eyes widen at the realisation. There had been others before him. “I’m sorry! I’ve misspoken, we have brought others back, but their families took them in, and they’re fine. I know your scared, but if you hear us out-“

“-Shut up!” Daryl twisted his head around, trying to look around, anywhere but the men who held them captive. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t give a shit about what you say! Unless you plan on telling me why you took me wand what you want I don’t want to hear it, ya hear?” The other man had taken a step back, but Aaron held firm.

“That’s enough.” He whispered. “Do you see the man next to me? That’s my partner, Eric. H was the one who noticed you first. We’ve been watching your group for some time. The place you’re in? It’s called Alexandria, and you and your group will be safe here. There are walls surrounding the whole place, and electricity, and food. We’re planning to let your group in in a few months, if everything goes well. So don’t worry about that, ok?”

“The group? You’re going to let em in your little hideout? How do I even know it’s real? For all I know we’re in a shock somewhere in the middle a nowhere, and you’re tryna’ make me give away where they are!” Aaron actually laughed. It was light and airy, the kind of laugh that Daryl hadn’t genuinely heard in a while, far too long.

This guy had to be crazy, Daryl thought.

He turned away to look at Eric, who chuckled quietly. “Well, we were hoping that you would go outside with us, in time. The whole community wants to meet you. If you promise to be good, we can let you take a look outside the window?” Arron stood up, looking away. “No, wait. Better idea. How about we take a look out the front door?” Daryl nodded.

“That sounds like a good idea. How about you undo these?” Daryl was begging to really wake up, though he was still slightly groggy. They probably gave him drugs that would do that to him for a few hours. That wouldn’t surprise Daryl.

“We’ll do that. In time, but not until we can trust you. It’s ok, though. We came prepared.” Daryl didn’t like the sound of that, either, but before he could protest to anything the man called Eric was holding one of his freed hands in a surprisingly strong grip. As much as Daryl wanted to tug at his arm, he knew that he needed to let them show him where he was. For all he knew, they hadn’t take him too far. There was a chance he could make it back before everyone moved on. Eric, with the help of Aaron, who held the other hand, tied his hands together with a Velcro strip. It was then that he saw what was covering his hands.

“Are those mittens?” Daryl asked, looking at the pale blue pieces of cloth that prevented him from moving his hands. They were loosely tightened to his wrists with strings, and he only had room to move them slightly. Enough to be comfortable, but not enough to really do anything useful. Aaron looked at them.

“Glad to see that the drugs are wearing off. We were getting a bit worried, you know.” Daryl sneered at him, tempted to use a few choice words to at least get rid of his own embarrassment, but he stopped himself a gain. He looked around again as he was helped to sit up.

“Am I in a crib? A goddam crib?” That was a new way of contain a prisoner, for sure. Limited recourses, he guessed.

“We’ll move you to a normal bed, soon, but this is usually standard practise. If we didn’t do all this, you might hurt yourself.” Yeah, or get out, Daryl thought. That would come later, when he gained their trust and got a better feel of the area. They didn’t seem like they’d be too much trouble to deal with, though he could be sure until he tried. They used the Velcro to tie his wrists together again in front of his, and took an arm each.

Now he could see the whole room, the baby blue colour of the room, the sparse but childish decorations.

Still groggy, Daryl let him be led to the door whilst they made sure to look out for the steps. The house seemed nice, huge and clean, the cleanest he’d seen for years. Even the farmhouse showed signs of decay and a hectic lifestyle that usually went with the stress of the end of the world. There were even signs that they had been living there for a while. There were photos nailed to the wall. Aron opened the door.

The outside was blinding, the sun shining in Daryl’s still sensitive eyes, but he couldn’t lift his arms to shield himself. “You all right?” Eric whispered. He lifted his own hand in front of Daryl’s eyes, until Daryl moved his own head away. He couldn’t even believe it.

The streets were as clean and orderly as the house. He didn’t see anyone there, but on the other side of the street he could vaguely see one person, an older woman, by the looks of it, cleaning the dishes at her kitchen sink. She them al standing there, and waved, smiling.

“Morning, Maureen!” Aaron shouted from the doorway. The woman called Maureen opened her own window.

“Morning Aaron! Who’s this?” She waved at Daryl. “Hiya sweetie! You that nice young man they were talking about? You sure agreed sooner than most, but I suppose you couldn’t find a better set of parents.” Daryl looked to the two men, who were looking at each other in embarrassment.

“Well, I have to get these ready. Introduce him to Andrea properly, wont you?” The two of them looked panicked as she said this, Aaron shifting closer to him.

“We had meant to explain that.” Eric whispered. “Why don’t we go back inside?”  
Daryl again let himself be led, huffing a little when Aaron closed the door they sat him down on a couch that looked nearly brand new. “We need to let you know why you’re here.”

“S’pose you’re wanting to hold my group over something? At least, I thought that, but you seem to have a lot for picking on a small group of survivors.” Daryl shut his mouth, didn’t need them to know that he wasn’t sure of what they wanted.

“No! Absolutely not! Daryl, in a few months you’re group’s gonna get invited into our community, but we wanted you for another reason.” Daryl looked to Eric, who looked to Aaron. Aaron seemed to take this as meaning that he should start talking, as he coughed and sat straighter in preparation.

“We have a bit of what must seem like an odd practise here. It’s a kind of therapy, we suppose. Most people here have lost someone, a lot of them have lost close love ones. People who they used to look after, people who used to look after them, you know? Some found it really hard to get along, even if life is good here, but then-“He paused, wringing his hands. “One or two of the couples took on a person who wanted to be looked after, like a child.” Aaron said the word child with so much emphasis, drying out the word and looking into Daryl’s still-confused face. “You wouldn’t believe how well it worked. Before we knew it, people were wanting their own person to look after in that way, even if they had not considered it before.”

“The people they looked after, where they willing?” Daryl asked.

“Yes. They went freely. It’s just- there are more families wanting people than there are people in there and that lead to a lot of issues. So we started looking outwards, and we found that there were a lot of people that needed looking after. One or two of the people that we brought in here- Daryl, you wouldn’t even believe that they had survived that long- and sure, they were a bit nervous to trust us, and once or twice we had to make them come over to see what was here, but when they got here? Not a single person has left.” When it was either submit to being treated like a child or certain death, Daryl supposed he could see why women would agree to that.

“We’re going to wait for you to settle in before we invite them to stay here. Just to make sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Daryl, we are so sorry about what we did to get you here. Most people that come here like that aren’t exactly willing for the first week or two, but it really is a better life for you, and your group will come here. They will want to stay here. Wouldn’t you rather be near them?” Aaron looked at Daryl, and that was when he got it.

If he didn’t stay there, they would let the group in. they were the assurance that he would stay, and allow whatever it really was that they wanted to do with him. He sneered at the two.

“I guess I’ll stay here for a little while, then. What would this shit involve, anyway?” Aaron and Eric smiled the widest grins their faces seemed capable of, and Eric pat Daryl on the back.

Daryl’s new life had officially begun.


	2. What We Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry it took so long to update. This chapter is longer because I'll have to take a break for exams D: I hope everyone likes this chapter, and if you want you can tell me if there's anything you want to see in the next chapter and I'll try and write it in! :)

How long had Daryl been dead? Rick couldn't fathom the difference between one month and two months any more, hadn't been able to for a while, he thought. He could count to about a week, then count to another week. He’d mark down a calendar in the prison, scribbling on the days with a spare pencil after roughly guessing what month it was and starting from one. Dates didn't matter much now. He still had a good sense of the seasons, though. It was nearly winter when he disappeared, and now Rick could feel the sun blazing hot on his skin for perhaps the last time as Autumn rolled in.

The walkers had been easy to spot, at least. The stench of rotting meat a tell-tale sign that thongs things were approaching. They seemed to decompose quicker as the sun beat down on their skin. He watched them rot whenever they got a chance to observe them.

Daryl could be like that, he would think. He could be one of those wretched looking things, shambling towards them blindly. Their arms were as outstretched as their ruined muscles allowed them to be, and their fingers grasped at their shadows dancing across the grass and dry mud

They had managed to get themselves a reasonably safe hideout in an isolated house. Whoever had built was a doomsday prepper, Rick had thought. How he hadn’t made it was anyone’s guess, but Rick later suspected isolation was the cause. The place was surrounded by four walls of wood, the entrance nailed shut with thick wood and nails rusted with time. It was only visible if you travelled deep into the forest, and managed to scale the walls, which was at least Rick’s height. They had thought they would negotiate a peace treaty with the people inside, but instead only found a wooden ladder on the other side, covered in moss and mould from exposure.

“They walked out.” Michonne whispered to Rick. “We’d better make sure that he ain’t comn’ back soon.” Rick took firs watch, whilst Carol found them enough food to last one person at least another year.

“The trouble is there’s only one bed. Some men’s shirts and jeans. Some bedsheets, too. We’ve lived rougher, I suppose.” Carol thought, mostly to herself as she thought about the night time arrangements. Rick didn’t mind it.

“We should pack some of his food, then. In case he comes back.” Rick was getting tired, but he didn’t want them caught without anything to eat in the face of such an opportunity. Carol nodded. “Tell Michonne that it’s her shift soon!” He shouted after her, watching her wave in acknowledgement before settling down to look at the bare walls again.

Michonne took the next watch, then Carol, and even Rick took watch for a short while, but he never showed up. The man had been gone for at least a day and night, so in Rick’s mind he was either dead, or a Walker. They took what they could carry and made themselves ready for when they would need to move on. They knew that that day would come soon, for whatever reason. If the farm wasn’t safe then it wouldn’t be here.

They were right about that, at least. Whilst the walkers were gathering outside, the group could sense their time there was running short. They had run out of clean water, and the walkers were completely surrounding the area, gnashing their teeth at the wooden walls of their sanctuary-turned-cage.

“He only brought enough water for one person to survive for a little while. Figures he’d forget something.” Michonne nodded at Rick.

“If we try to climb down the way we came in the walkers will get to us. There’s no room to fight back.” Michonne whispered so that the others wouldn’t hear them. After Daryl’s death Michonne had become Rick’s trusted adviser, and had shown herself to be at least as smart and as skilled as Daryl, respecting Rick whilst never letting him think that he was above their input.

“We’ll build something so that we can lean over the walls and shoot them from above. That way we won’t have to worry about them taking us.” Michonne nodded, but seemed unconvinced.

“Water deprivation begins to affect people pretty quickly, and we don’t have a huge amount of supplies, never mind enough tools to go between us to get the job done whilst we still can.” Rick bit his lip to withhold his own anger. They should have thought of this problem earlier, back when they were taking in the supplies. They should have realised that walkers would be attracted to the scent of so many humans in such a small space, but they didn’t think. Would Daryl have thought of this? He seemed to know a lot about that sort of thing: avoiding how people became prey rather than falling right into a trap.

Rick stood up. There was no time for that now. It was his fault that they hadn’t built it yet. They trusted him with a way out and they didn’t have one. That made him responsible for finding a way to get out before it was too late.

“Get whatever stable things you can find in the house. I think there might be the guy’s rusted car in the back. I think he drove it in here before he locked the doors and nailed them shut. Get that and anything else you can find to prop me up. I’ll do it.”

“Rick, there isn’t much to be found-“

“-I know that! What else can we do? If one of them manages to get to me, I can still distract them whilst you try and get people away. Carol will help cover you.” Carol and Michonne would make a good leadership team if something did happen to him, and Rick was already trying to get them to team together so that they would be ready. That way Carl and Judith would at least have some kind of future as well as the rest of the group.

“Alright. I get it.” Michonne turned her back and called over to Carol, who was rocking the last innocent of the group back and forth, sing some sweet tune, a gun at all times strapped to her back. Without another word, she handed the still fussing toddler to her older brother and flowed Michonne to the back. They would do fine, Rick thought.

“Thanks.” He said, mostly to himself, rather than the retreating figures.

He waited for Michonne and Carol to find a box before he helped them pull the car to where the majority of the zombies were.

“We can use a Molotov cocktail to attract the others to where you’ll be shooting.” Michonne spoke suddenly. Rick smiled.

“You’re right. There’s spare alcohol in the cellar, could you get some while I get the guns ready?” They had to speak to communicate still. That was a problem. Rick and Daryl could often have a whole conversation without saying one ward to each other, but that could come, in time. If they had time.

He let the Molotov cocktail off first, when everything was ready. It burst upon impact with the ground, setting the nearby trees alight within seconds. Rick inwardly winced, a part of him still a law abiding cop who would have wanted this place protects, but when he was the walkers stumble towards the females and shrugged that long since passed man off. He raise his gun and began shooting those still trying to get to him first. The flames travelled between the dead as they seemed to stumble around, disconcerted with the multiple stimuli of sound and movement. Rick felt his mind leaving his body as instinct took over. The only sound he could hear was the groaning of the walkers, and the relief of the gunshots. He could time them, count the bullets as they left his own gun and watch as each hit there mark an felled another one of the damned things. Two went down, then three, then four. Then he noticed something else.

There were more dead walkers than there were used bullets. Ten used bullets, at least twenty dead bodies.

“Michonne! I told you to get out of here with the rest of the group! Where’s Carol?” No answer. “Where the hell is everyone else?” He yelled into the forest. Still no answer. “Who’s there?” With the majority of the walkers dead, Rick turned wildly wounded in search for the mystery shooter.

“Rick?” A distant voice came from behind him. In the distance he could just see Michonne and the others waving at him to get to them. He wave back without thinking, too concerned with what he had learned.

Someone had helped him get rid of the walkers. Where they the Claimers, or the cannibalistic Terminus survivors? Why would they bother saving him? Waiting for the best time to get you, a small voice whispered to him in the back of his mind. Wouldn’t be any fun watching you and your loved ones get eaten by a bunch of random walkers, now would it? He shook his head, trying to relieve his brain of the images of his family trapped again, held against their will, knowing that it could be the end.

Rick took the now empty guns and ran as fast as he could to the group, who greeted him with welcome smiles and palpable relief.

“We shouldn’t go back there.” Rick states with a firm sense of finality. “We got trapped there too early. If it happened this time, it could happen again, and there’s only so much water we could store in there safely.” With barley held in reluctance, Michonne nodded, the rest falling neatly behind them. Rick motioned in the direction he saw first and heard the mismatched footsteps behind him follow.

They walked for what must have been hours before they came across the next barn they would call their homes. It was just as decrepit as all the another forsaken barns he’d come across. It was a place to sleep that kept out the rain, with some hay to keep some heat, nothing more. He could hear a voice groan form the back.

“Be glad we found this when we did. I’m pretty sure I saw a well a little while back, covered up. We’re lucky.” He kicked the doors open after checking for the sounds of shuffling feet and low groaning inside. Nothing. This would officially go down in Rick’s mind as a good day, all things considered, and the thought turned the forced smile on his face to something more genuine.

They settled in while he sent Michonne and Carol off to get water. The rest of the group secured the area. There was an upstairs to this barn, which he told everyone, no questions, that they would have to share the smaller but comparatively much safer space. He carefully made a place for Judith to rest, and laid her down on the hay and blankets placed for her. The little girl absent mindedly played with the hay, giggling to herself. Rick put a hand on her blonde hair, ruffling the untidy locks, laughing slightly. “Look after her.” He told Carl, who nodded and sat down next to her.

A little while later, Michonne and Carol came back with fresh water, proudly brandishing a few rabbits. “I may not be Daryl, but he taught me some things.” Carol said, a sad look briefly crossing her face. Rick knew that they had been close, maybe even closer than him and Daryl.

“He’d be proud.” Carol laughed. In truth, she knew that he’d be mad that they’d used so many bullets on a few scrawny rabbits, and they knew they’d be pulling out buckshot from a few of them for a while.

They cooked it on the bottom of the barn. The entire group were still up there, Rick had counted them himself. It came as an unpleasant surprise when he heard that banging at the door.

“That’s n walker.” He heard Abraham say from above. Without a word, he pulled out his knife. He nodded to the other, who were creeping down behind him, taking out their own weapons.

“We don’t have room here. If you want food or shelter go somewhere else.

“I haven’t come here for that.” A man’s voice filtered thought the heavy door. “Came here to talk, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Rick heard Abraham say the words, heard the hash nudge Rosita game him for speaking up when Rick was the group’s leader.

“You can talk here. Go on.” He prompted when the man didn’t continue.

“OK, no issues here. I’m from a safe haven called Alexandria-“

“-We’ve been to enough safe havens and safe zones and army protected compounds, thank you. Go on, now.” He saw the envelope being pushed through the small gap under the barn.

“I’ll leave these here. If you want to hear more I’ll stay. We want people like you, Rick. You and your group would be an asset. We have our own energy and water supply. You could raise families there.” Rick involuntarily saw a picture in his mind of a happy, smiling Judith, getting to grow up, getting to be child. Carl getting to enjoy the last bits of his own ruined childhood years while he still could, but barked out a laugh of derision.

“I told you, go on.” He moved to scare him off, but Michonne stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. She shook her head, holding up the retrieved envelope. Rick took it and opened it. Inside, there were pictures. Recently taken, Rick saw, of people laughing and smiling on suburban streets, drinking coffee. One was even at some kind of party. Now a walker in sight, no devastation.

“Too good to be true. We’ve seen this before.” Rick waved the photos around to show the others before throwing them on the ground. Michonne picked them up, bushing the dirt and hay off of them. The other leant towards her in order to get a better look at the photos. “It’s a trick.” Rick said with that familiar sense of finality. “You need to leave!” He shouted to the door, but he didn’t hear the retreating footsteps.

“This may be our only chance, Rick. We can’t go on like this forever. If Daryl can die just like that, what chance does Judith have? Or Carl? Any of us?” Rick gritted his teeth and turned away. He heard Judith in Carl’s arms, babbling absent mindedly, unaware of the tense silence that had come over the barn. Rick huffed, throwing his arms down.

“Fine! We’ll hear him out. Bring him in.” Abraham dragged the man inside. He struggles on instinct for a few seconds, but held himself sill after.

“Thank you, Rick. I know that it’s hard to trust me. Your groups been through so much and I promise you that-“

“-Get on with it.” Rick was placing himself purposefully too close to the smaller man, getting right in his face to the point where the rest of the group were contemplating placing themselves in front of the two to keep the peace.

“Of course, of course. I know, I know that you don’t think you can believe me, but look at the photos! You can’t deny it when you look at those. High walls, orchards, our own energy source, water source. It’s sustainable. You could raise your children here.” The conversation that took place involved a great deal of placating from Aaron, a steadying hand from Michonne, and one particularly hard punch to the face from Rick. It was a good thing that Aaron didn’t seem to have much interest in holding a grudge.

As long as it took, Aaron, with his hands behind his back, eventually managed to get them back to his own car. With a gun pressed to his head, he even managed to convince them to untie him.

Before they could drive off, though, he introduced those who would have to go in the camper van to Eric.

“Love of my life.” He side whilst gesturing to the blonde, blushing man. H gave him a quick peck on the cheek and looked at the ropes. “They’re going to untie me when we get to the car.”

“Be careful.” Eric admonished. “You go ahead, we’ll be right behind you.” Rick gave Michonne a look, and Michonne looked back to the camper van.

Once they reached the gates, the whole process became almost too easy. Deanna, the safe zone’s leader, was there to greet them, ushering them in with a smile on her face. Rick could sense a politician a mile off, even now. She seemed nice enough, but there was just enough practise put into her every movement that made his hair stand on edge.

Rick was interviewed, with the rest being told they would have to do the same. They discovered hot water, they showered. Rick shaved for maybe the first time in who even knew how long. They all slept in the same room of the one house.

Happiness felt like such a foreign concept to Rick now. He would barley even comprehend the fact that he was alive, and that the clothes on his back were clean, let alone that he could climb some of this new life for himself. Permanently. He watched the others sleep soundly in their own beds, and wondered what tit could possibly be. The catch.

//////////

Daryl had been sitting there waiting for Pa and Daddy to come back for so long, now, that he knew if he shut his eyes for too long he’d miss them. Mrs Colleen had put him to bed at eight pm sharp with a warning that if he got up he’d be in trouble. He’d asked and asked to stay up even longer, but she’d insisted.

The bed that his parents had got him was facing the doorway, so that he could see if his parents opened the door, and so that they could make sure he was in bed and not “wandering around and getting into trouble” as Mrs Colleen put it. He did that a bit too much.

Everything from the before had faded into his mind as time had gone on, but sometimes, times like these, the thoughts came back. Pa became Aaron and Daddy became Eric, and even when he tried not to think those things, because he knew they were bad things, the thought just came all by themselves. They made Daryl scared. It was like a part of him still wanted him to be out there, where the monsters lived.

Pa Aaron and Daddy Eric could still be out there now, he thought, and the idea made him pull up the overs, protecting himself with the dark blue fabric. They had promised to only be out for a day or so. It would be nearly two days. He knew, he’d counted. He hated it! They had been gone for a day or two before, but any more than that was unthinkable.

Both of them gone, as well. Occasionally one of them would go with someone else. Usually it would be him and Daddy Eric, his name was Eric, alone for a few days and that was fine.

Maybe they would give him something after they got back? Pa would always bring something back to him. Like his new crossbow. It stood next to his bed, black plastic arrows in a light blue frame. It wasn’t as cool as his old one, he thought. At least from what he could remember it was not as cool. He was sure his old one was all back and metal, but that couldn’t be right, could it? Did he ever known a crossbow? He remembered talking about one non-stop to Pa when he first came home. H might have imagined it.

This one had to be better, he thought. It had sticky things at the ends which meant that they would hit their targets and everything when you shot them, and he had shot just about everything when he got it. Daddy had banned it in the house.

He bet that whatever they might bring back for him, it had to be really good. He just didn’t know what, though. He heard footsteps downstairs.

“Maureen! Thank you, was he any trouble?” That was Daddy, for sure. He always sounded happy like that.

“Trouble? Not this time, but he tested his limits for sure, but what a little treasure! You ask me any time to look after him. My pleasure.” Mrs Colleen said her final goodbyes before leaving.

“Bye Maureen! Ask Vic if he still needs help with your roof! I’m not one of the construction workers but I’ve fixed a few like that before!” That was Pa. he heard the door shut closed with a quiet bang. Daryl looked at the door. Should he pretend he’s asleep? He heard them coming up the stairs. He shut his eyes, turning away from the door.

The bedroom door to his room creaked as a hand pushed the door open. Still looking away from the door, Daryl opened one eye to see a slim shimmer of light from the hallway, and two tall figures.

“Looks like he’s asleep, let’s not wake him.” Daddy whispered, but Daryl could still make it out.

“We should at least let him know we’re back. I’ve got hi present with me. He’ll love it.” Daryl just kept in his excited gasp. He heard the footsteps come closer, felt the hand on his shoulder. “Kiddo, you up?” Daryl turned around, making a big show of yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. What d’ya get me?’ The other two laughed at the forward question. Daddy sat down on the end of the bed, and Pa handed him a soft parcel.

“It’s only a little thing, but you were saying something about it a month ago and me though- well, hopefully you’ll like it.” Daryl ripped open the packaging with a haste he usually reserved for dinner.

“A poncho?” Daryl held up the item of clothing with a bit of confusion. Had he mentioned this? He like the fabric, though. It felt soft on his skin, and if Pa bought it them it must be good. “Thank ya Pa, thank ya Daddy.” He hugged them after sitting up.

“We got you some DVDs and cartoons, but you have to stay inside tomorrow. There are new people here and we don’t want them coming around and seeing you until they’re settled in.” Daddy warned.

“Why not?” Daryl turned his head to look at Daddy. Daddy and Pa shared one of their “secret looks” before Pa looked him in the eye.

“They might not be used to the way we do things around here.” Pa told him, but Daryl knew something wasn’t right.

“You never cared before, and we let in a couple.” Daryl didn’t know why he had to be always talking back to his parents all the time. It just came out, and for a moment he felt embarrassed at even saying that to his own Pa and Daddy, but they didn’t seem to mind too much.

“This time’s different, sweetie. We can’t tell you why yet. It just is.” Daddy ruffled his hair and Daryl huffed, crossing his arms. He hated staying inside. Daryl any fun to be had inside, let alone in just his own room. “We got something else for you, too.” They took out another package out, one with a much more humanoid shape. Daryl held out is and and the figure was placed into his waiting palm.

He ripped away the packaging to reveal a small doll. It was in the shape of a woman, blonde and very young looking. A teenager, Eric had thought. Like a Barbie knock off.

“We came across an old mall on our way back. We heard you talking about wanting a blonde one for a while.” Daryl was looking down at the doll, and Aaron placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“I think he’s stopped listening.” Eric laughed quietly.

“Goodnight, Daryl.” Eric whispered, ruffling his hair once more. Aaron gave him a one armed hug. Daryl looked up with a murmured goodnight, but otherwise kept his attention solely on the doll.

The thin line of light that had come from the door was gone. Now, the only sing of light was the slight amount that got thought the window, the moon and the stars the only things allowing Daryl to see the doll. Daryl placed the doll on his bedside table, looking at it for a long moment.

“Beth.” Daryl turned round and closed his eyes.

///////

Eric and Aaron had talked out whether they really wanted to have a proper Christmas that year. It might be stressful for Daryl. He had only moved in around three months ago.

“We already have what we got for him. He’s not got anything in that room to really entertain him.” Aaron reasoned. That wasn’t technically true, though. They didn’t have a few things. Everyone else had recommended simple puzzle games. A jigsaw or two, a few colouring pens, pencils and paper. That didn’t seem to interest Daryl, though. He was an active, practical child. The crossbow they had got him last month was used more than everything else in his room combined, but they couldn’t always have him standing in the backyard, aiming a little drawn on targets.

They had found something, they thought. More a collection of things, but Aaron was sure he would like it.

At Christmas they had crept up the stairs to see Daryl already waiting. They still had the crib back then, but they had stopped putting the cuff on. The crib was set higher off the ground, and the bars came up above Daryl’s waist even as he was standing. It made it a lot harder for him to get out, and even harder for it to go unnoticed.

“See? I knew we could trust him.” Aaron called to Eric, who was standing behind him figures in tow.

“Hmmm.” Daryl hummed, but didn’t say anything. Aaron came inside and let the bar at one side go down, lifting Daryl out despite mild protests. “Hey!”

“Merry Christmas, Daryl.” Eric said, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “We got you something.”

“What?” Daryl looked at them both, eyes screwed in suspicion.

Trust wasn’t a thing given quickly by Daryl, but that was fine. Aaron and Eric were confident that they were getting through to him. Aaron held out a few of the packages they had gotten, taken from Eric whilst Daryl was settling down, while Eric held onto the rest.

Daryl took the first one and unwrapped it. Inside was a man with brown hair and a sheriff’s badge. “Rick.” He whispered to himself. He placed it by his right side. The next one was an older lady with shorter hair. “No perfect… But shed make a good Carol.” He placed the newly named Carol. One after one Daryl opened the packages. Each one seemed to look like someone from Daryl’s previously life. At least to him it did. Aaron and Eric just thought that Daryl was finally finding an outlet for his own complex emotions. To Daryl it was a means of escape.

He would put them into a line over the next week. He repeated their names. Put them in order of leadership, of age, from oldest to youngest. From weakest to strongest. He always left himself out.

He sorted them into piles. Those he remembered who could hunt, and those who couldn’t. Those who could find empty food cans and non-poisonous berries, and people who had to be watched so that they wouldn’t accidentally poison themselves. He tried to sort them to into alive and dead. It was so easy at first, but them he saw the pile of those will arrived and realised something: he had been gone for months. He’d seen people come and go, horribly, in less time than that. Everyone that might have cared about his thought that he was dead, another closed chapter.

Which one of the group he had left was dead? Or where there more than one corpse? Where any of them really still alive? He could be waiting for people who were already dead.

With that realisation, the dolls turned from reminders to comfort objects, like tombstones. He left most of them in their box at night. The favourites, though, he begged Eric an Aaron to left him keep near him.

Rick was the first he insisted, then Carol. He left Carl, Judith and Lori in the box. He felt happy, in a way, to reunite them all as a family. He remembered how Carl had been after he had been forced to kill his own mother. He hadn’t been the same since, and Daryl liked to imagine them al as more innocent versions of themselves.

To him carol would always be partly the strong, confident badass that had grown in the hell they were forced into, but another part of his mind left her as the kind and gentle woman who had desperately hoped for her daughter’s safe return.

Rick was the strong leader, the negotiator, the peace keeper. He imagined him searching for Daryl tirelessly. He never stopped thinking he was alive in Daryl’s mind. A part of him knew that he rick in his mind was coming to find him and hat if he held on- but there was no point. That rick had died long before Daryl was taken. The group had moved on, if they weren’t dead, and he should too.

Aaron had been quiet about the group since he had agreed to settle in with them. Daryl didn’t want to admit it, but he liked him. He like Eric, too, but Aaron and Daryl seemed to have a natural bond. They could have been friends, and a part of Daryl wanted to reject that thought.

 

////////

Rick and Carol had been allowed to stay with him, but it came at a cost.

“Call me Daddy from now on, and call Aaron Pa.” Eric explained the new rule to him. Aaron held onto the bars of the crib, looking into Daryl’s twisting, angered face.

“You serious?” Firs I gotta sleep in a fu- a crib? I ain’t going no further.” Daryl could already feel himself giving up this fight, though. He was still allowed some dignity. They hadn’t asked him to stop speaking to them like his own age, yet, and he knew that this was completely at their digression.

“Yes. I am perfectly serious, Daryl, and don’t think I didn’t hear that language there, any more of that and you’ll be sorry.” Eric couldn’t quite pull off angry, but the threat was clear. Daryl let out a frustrated huff, moved his head away, growled, and then turned back to them.

“Sorry, Daddy.” Eric and Aaron smiled at each other.

“That was so good, Daryl. I’m so proud of you.” Aaron spoke softly, and a small art of Daryl felt happy.

////////

“Fuck you!” The words had come out without him having meant to. He hadn’t been been angry. Eric had told him to do something. What had it even been? Come down to the wall outside. He didn’t want to, and he suspected now he would be lucky if he would see the outside for a long time to come.

Eric had gone pale at the words. Aaron was out getting food for the next week, and Daryl didn’t even want to find out what they would decide to do when he got back. At the beginning he thought that I he became a nuisance they would just let him go. The thought came back.

“Yeah, what ya gonna do, then? Just get it over with.” He remembered how his own parents had reacted to him misbehaving. His mother usually didn’t even notice, so absorbed as she was in her own addiction, and his pa had barely any time to hear what he had done before he would serve out his own band of corporal justice. For a moment he half expected to do the same. He closed his eyes and held his arms at his sides.

“Daryl, we won’t hurt you.” Daryl snorted. “Daryl, I’m serious. We want to be a family. Tell you what, this’ll just be our little secret. Nothing more needs to b said, but keep those at temper under control, young man. Now come on, let’s go for a walk.” Daryl let himself be guided out the door and onto the pavement.

///////

The diapers were a slowly won fight, but after a week of discussion, and the legendary negotiating skills Aaron possessed, Daryl was finally ready to try them. Usually the person taken would agree to have them on within a week of being here, not nearly five months, but Aaron and Eric just knew that Daryl needed to give this up on his own.

“It feels weird.” Daryl muttered.

“You’ll get used to them.” Aaron comforted. Daryl snorted, his prime means of rebellion, but settled down in front of the television to watch the DVDs they’d picked out for him the day before.

“I think he’s ours getting used to us.” Eric whispered. “Not a single outburst for the last two days.” Daryl pretended not to hear them.

///////

Glenn rolled his eyes at Carl’s attempts to get out of dinner that evening. Glenn was given the task of looking after Carl for the evening, and making sure he didn’t sneak off with his new fiends, but the task was becoming more bother than it was even worth. This wasn’t a couple who were going to kick them out of Alexandria for very little social nicety they broke. Eric and Aaron seemed so nice to Glenn. A little naïve, maybe, but not as bad as the other people in Alexandria. Not by a long shot, if the other people Glenn had met so far were anything to go by.

They were out in the backyard of the couple’s home. Carl was edging closer and closer to the back gate, and Glenn was watching him with a steady eye. “Don’t think I won’t run after you, Carl.”

“But Glenn!” Carl pleaded.

“Don’t “But Glenn!” me, Carl. Your but’s staying right where I can see it until Rick says otherwise.” He looked into the downstairs window at Rick and everyone else in the kitchen. They were all laughing and talking to the other residents like they had been doing it all their lives. Some of them had, like Carol and Rick. They were used to suburbia, and putting on that face, even if they hadn’t needed to in a long while. Not he, though, with his city upbringing removing that easy relationship with the neighbours, or Maggie with her isolated farm house. Daryl wouldn’t even know where to start.

Glenn shook his head, trying to clear the unwelcome thought from his mind. Daryl was dead, and they needed to move on. It was hard, but it’s what they need to do if they wanted to live.

He looked into the living room, where everyone was slowly moving into, will chatting, still laughing.

“Daryl?” It was Carl. He had moved next to him and as pointing above the living room. Hoping this wasn’t a sign that Carl had lost it, Glenn looked up. The curtain of the upstairs room was moving from side to side. Someone was up there.

Aaron and Eric had said they lived alone. Either this was someone who had broken in, or they had something to hide.

“It was probably the heart. Time for you to go inside.” Carl turned to him, annoyance palpable on his teenage face. Glenn played him no mind, indignation to the back door. Carl trudged inside in front of him. Glenn made sure to hang round the back. “You tell them I’m going to the bathroom, be there in a minute!” Carl waved in acknowledgement. Glenn watched him go inside before making his way to the stairs. With care not to make any noise, he crept up the finely made wooden staircase. It led to a landing that showed him three rooms and a bathroom down the hall. One of them was open. He could see the double bed and dark blue walls. Aaron and Eric’s bedroom.

The next room was closed, and Glenn stopped himself for a moment. He leant over the banister to listen down the stairs.

“Does your friend know where the downstairs bathroom is?” he heard Eric asked.

“I’m sure he does. It’s the same layout as ours, isn’t it?” Glenn heard Rick respond.

“Yeah, just like yours. I think your attic has more than one room, and ours has a bigger back yard, but they made them mostly the same. Now a lot of time for people to come in and make their own improvements before it all happened, you know?” That was Aaron. They were all downstairs, distracted.

Glenn stepped up the first door and held onto the handle. He waited for another burst of laughter from the room downstairs before carefully turning the handle. Thankfully the doors were newly made and didn’t creak too much as he opened them. The room opened into what must have been a spare bedroom. The sheets were a plain white, and the only furniture inside was a desk with a lamp on it. Glenn sighed, partly with relief, partly with disappointment.

Then he turned to the only other room. It had been painted a pale blue. What got to Glenn was that it looked even newer than the rest of the house, if that was even possible. For a moment, he even thought he could hear movement, but as soon as he stepped closer to it the sound ceased, leaving only a growing sick feeling in his stomach. He waited again and tried the handle. It was locked. What now?

He could pick the lock. That would take more time, but he was there now, and it could be months before he got another chance. Eric wasn’t going on another trip with Aaron for weeks, and apparently they got a house sitter every time they went. At least, that’s what Eric had said when he’d wave at that neighbour right across from them.

He could do it, though. He always kept a tool with him, just in case. He was the one who would always do it back outside. He liked to keep it on himself. They hadn’t even noticed it when he had entered Alexandria. He took out the small tool and began to gently pick the lock, keeping an ear out for any sound that would indicate he had been spotted. Whatever was inside had noticed him working. He heard shuffling, and what almost sounded like a whimper on the other side of the door. It wasn’t a walker the behind there. Glenn almost laughed at that thought. He was becoming paranoid. Aaron and Eric wouldn’t keep a walker in their own house! He want even sure what had made him think that.

He had nearly gotten the door. The other side was quiet again. Not even a sound came out. The door swung open after another few tugs at the lock, to another empty room, but this one was lived in. it had a single bed, with low bars on either side of it. They looked as if they were designed for a toddler to stop them from rolling out of bed by accident. There were toys scattered across the floor. Dolls, at least twenty of them.

Glenn picked a few of them up, holding them out at about arm’s length to look at them. There was a woman smiling and happy with a baby in her arms, and a young boy by her side. There was another of a figure in overalls, blonde, sitting next to an elderly man with a beard and a brunette woman.

Glenn looked around, then under the bed. No one there. He saw a closet, slightly ajar. Glenn walked away from the closet, but kept his eyes on it, then turned away with purpose. He walked over to the window. This was it, this was the room. He could see it from his own vantage point. The tree was directly across.

As carefully as he could, he walked over to the closet, out of the line of sight of whoever was most likely watching from the open door.

This was ridiculous, a par of him thought. From the looks of things, it had to be a young child. The couple might not want them to meet their only child so soon, after having hardly known them? It was too late to stop, though. He had already broken in, and his only hope for not causing an incident was to try and make peace with the young infant, and relock the door from the outside.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m really sorry about scaring you, there. I’m gonna leave in a minute, I just need to know you’re ok first. I’m gonna apologise to your parents, honest. I’m not here to hurt you.” Glenn felt himself go cold with fear. What if he had screwed up the group’s first chance at a safe place to liv? In only a few days, too. That kid was probably shaking with fear from the stranger who had invaded his room and he was making it ten times worse. He should at least make sure the kid wasn’t too traumatised. Why didn’t they just say they had a kid? They could have and kept him upstairs until they were sure the group was safe.

Glenn shook his head. It wasn’t their fault he had broken into their kid’s room, it was his. He and his stupid paranoia had gotten the group into trouble.

He could hear shuffling from inside the cupboard. Glenn reached out to open the other door.

“Don’t be scared, I’m not gonna hurt you-“he felt the plastic sucker hit his chest and bounce off, ricocheting across the floor. He saw the plastic crossbow first. Then he looked at the adult arm from which it came, up to the similarly adult body, clothed in dark trousers and a bright red jumper, all the way up to the scared, but still familiar face.

“Daryl?” Glenn whispered, not quite believing his eyes.

“Please don’t hurt me.” Daryl whispered, still clutching the plastic crossbow.

///////

“Rick! Michonne! Carol! Come up here! Hurry!” the sound of Glenn’s panicked screams caused a stunned silence to fall over the crowd, composing of Rick’s group, Aaron and Eric. Then, the room was filled with movement. From Eric’s pleads and attempts to calm them down, to Rick’s own run from the room and up the stairs. Michonne stayed down with the rest to keep some of the others at bay, fearing for their lives should they rush headlong into danger, but couldn’t stop Carol and Aaron from rushing from the room right after Rick.

“Glenn! Glenn! Is it walkers?” Even as he said it, Rick shook his head. They couldn’t have walkers in here, not a chance. He was already at the foot of the stairs on the upper floor, with Aaron nearly right behind him.

“Don’t come near him, he doesn’t know you, he won’t understand-“rick ignored the desperate shouts of the frightened man. He couldn’t even understand what he was saying, was he talking about Glenn?

Rick was in front of the door that lay wide open, and could see from pint of view Glenn struggling with a man who was tapped in a cupboard. The image seemed strange to him, but he wasted no time in rushing to his friend’s aid. “Who is this?” he shouted as he tried to manoeuvre his way towards Glenn.

“Daryl! Its Daryl!” the breath in ricks body left him as he looked into the frightened face of his once second-in-command. The man was breathing heavily and now he was closer rick could see that Daryl was trying to get away from Glenn, who was trying to pull Daryl to him.

“Get off me! Get off me!” the man flailed widely until Aron approached them. “Pa!” H called, at which pint Rick felt compelled to round on the man.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Rick shouted over the still struggling pair behind him, moving in Aaron’s way so that he could not interfere.

“Let him go and I’ll explain.” Aaron pleaded again. Rick could hear Daryl shouting almost unintelligibly at Glenn behind him, and he was tempted to turn around and make sure neither were hurt. He resisted. He didn’t know if Aaron was a danger to them. Judging by the apparent kidnapping of one member of his family, he was. Rick motioned to the wall, and Aaron walked backwards towards it, holding his hands up in cautious surrender. Michonne by this point was making her way up the stairs with a frightened Eric, leading him by the arm, whilst Carol stood motionless in the doorway.

“Is that you, Daryl?” Rick heard her ask, watching her leaning against the doorway.

“Watch Aaron.” He motioned to the man, and as quick as she had lost concentrating on the situation around her, she snapped back. She purchased the man further against the wall, one hand firmly on his chest, whilst the other had both the man’s arms in her grip.

Rick nodded at her to stay in position, but the situation behind him was a great deal direr. After turning around he could see that Glenn still hadn’t calmed Daryl down, nor could he restrain him successfully. Rick couldn’t say he was surprise. Even if it didn’t look like he had been trying himself, Daryl still needed more than one person to take him down barehanded. He was twisting and turning in Glenn’s grip. Rick approached the man and grabbed one of his arms, and Glenn held onto another. This seemed to make the situation worse, as Daryl twisted around so wildly that he couldn’t be manoeuvred away from where he had cornered himself. If it continued like this he would hurt himself, Rick thought.

“Daryl! Calm down, sweetie. Stop that, please. They won’t hurt you, but you need to stop.” Rick heard Aaron beg the still struggling man, and Rick was almost tempted to snap back at him to shut up, that he’d done enough. Then he felt Daryl still in his grasp.

“Kay.” It was an odd thing to hear that mumble from Daryl. In his voice.

Daryl sat back down, or at least tried to. Rick and Glenn were still standing. He ended up half crouching away from the two holding onto him. Rick tried to smile at Daryl. Daryl wasn’t looking at him. He had head turned away from them both, choosing to look at the wall.

“My name is Rick, do you remember me? That’s Glenn. See that woman over there? That’s Carol.” Rick indicated to where Carol was standing, and Carol put on a tearful smile.

“We missed you, Daryl.” Carol whispered. Daryl stared at her, still no recognition in his eyes.

“Why doesn’t he recognise us?” Rick asked Aaron, who looked away from Daryl to answers.

“It’s been more than a year.” Rick shook his head.

“A year? Is this some kind of trick?” Rick tried to think back in his head, back to the seasons he had counted.

“More than two years. It was about December when we took him, and it’s just October now. He’s gotten used to us. Why don’t you let me or Eric come near him? We’ll go downstairs and half a talk.” Rick stood there, silent as he contemplated what he’d been told. Two years. Had Daryl really been “dead” for two years? Only to appear here now with seemingly no recognition of the years they had spent together as a family? It occurred to rick that on some level he had to have known this. Judith had already begun to form full sentences, and was able to walk around quite easily. Rick wasn’t an exception child development, but even he could tell that she had moved from being a toddler to a young child. She would have been starting school in a year, before all this.

“Alright. We’ll talk, but bring Deanna over here.” He gestured for Michonne to get her, along with Eric. “I want an explanation from her, as well.” He gestured to Carol. “Let him go, for now.” Carol let his hands go, then back away to release his chest. Aaron made his way to Daryl and Glenn allowed him to take his hand away from his left arm, to give them some room. Daryl seemed calmer instantly.

“We’ll all come downstairs, now. Thankfully you’re not hurt. Everything’s gonna work out.” Aaron was speaking quietly, not paying attention to the others near him. Taking Daryl by the arm that Glenn had left, he led Daryl downstairs.

///////  
“As far as this community is aware, Daryl is the child of Eric and Aaron. Any affiliation your group may have had is meaningless-“

“-that’s not good enough!” Rick shouted, leaning on the kitchen table of Eric and Aaron’s home, standing out of his seat and leaning towards Deanna and her husband. Deanna’s husband leaned in front of her, but she pushed him back lightly with her hand.

“As I was saying, as it would normally stand you wouldn’t have any rights to Daryl, but normally we couldn’t have people from an adopted person’s group here living within the community. That means that a circumstance like this deserves a unique solution. I propose joint custody, as a sign of respect. You can have Daryl for the weekend, and Monday to Friday for the next week, but you have to return Daryl by the end of this coming Monday. For The next two weeks Daryl will be back with Aaron and Eric, then a week with you, and so on. We’ll look at your situation after six months. If everyone, including Daryl, is happily enough, the situation will continue. If not, well, we’ll deal with that if it comes to it.” Deanna’s hands were placed in front of her, clasped. Her face was set in a neutral position, neither smiling nor frowning. Rick tried not to hate her.

“We agree. Have Daryl ready to come over to ours by this evening.” Rick shook hands with Deanna, an offered his hand to Aaron. Aaron stood there looking at it for a long moment, but then shook it. Eric shook rick’s hand, but pulled him closer.

“I’ll drop him off with Aaron, but we want him back.” Rick and Eric held each other’s gaze.

After leaving the house Glenn rushed to Rick’s side. “Why did you agree to that?”

“We don’t have a choice. They’re the ones with a place to stay. All we have right now is our experience, and that’s valuable enough to get this.” Glenn was silent. “We can do this. If Daryl says that he isn’t happy with Aaron and Eric, then Deanna won’t force him to stay. Then it’s all a matter of making sure Daryl’s all right.” The rest of the group nodded. “We should get a room ready for Daryl, since h wont won’t sleep around us for at least the first night or two.”

//////

“Have we got everything? Maybe we should go back.” Eric was gripping Daryl’s shoulder tight. They had kept him in his red jumper and dark trouser, making sure his face was clearly shaven.

“We don’t want to make them any angrier than they already are. If they begin to trust us, they might not make too much trouble.” Aaron had Daryl’s small bag packed. They walked towards the house where Rick was waiting. Daryl hadn't said a word since Aaron had told him what was happening. Rick held out his hand for the bag, then used his other hand to guide Daryl inside.

Aaron and Eric watched as the door shut behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> In response to a kink meme prompt. Feel free to comment if you have any questions, thank you very much for reading! :)


End file.
